


Bop to the Top

by waitingondaisies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 'others' are jily, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Female Draco Malfoy, Female Harry Potter, Femslash, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Humor, based on american schools/sports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22164241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingondaisies/pseuds/waitingondaisies
Summary: When Harry and Draco meet as freshmen in high school, it's enemies at first sight. The intervening years only serve to deepen their divide as they compete against each other– while still performing on the same dance team. Their senior year, they discover, to their mutual displeasure, that they've committed to going to the same college.Are they doomed to sabotage each other to the end of time, or will a forced duet lead them to finally resolving their differences in the only way that they know how: dance.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 34
Kudos: 31





	1. First Turn

**Author's Note:**

> note: i don't know like anything about competitive dance, so im sure this isn't super reflective of what it really is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huge thank you to amanda aka [duplicity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duplicity/pseuds/duplicity) for being my iconic beta!

**_November, 2012_ **

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” Harry asks Ron. 

They are already the best of friends, though they have only known each other since the beginning of the school year. In September they had tried out for field hockey together, and though Harry had made the team and Ron hadn’t, they’d stayed friends. 

And now, they were currently in the audience section of the school auditorium along with all the other dance team hopefuls. Harry absently tugs at her sports bra as she glances around. 

“Because it’ll be fun!” Ron says. “The worst that can happen is we don’t make it this year and have to try again next year.” 

Harry rolls her eyes. “But why _dance_? I’ve never danced before! We could’ve done something like swim.” 

“Well, at least one of my siblings has done all the other winter sports, and I want to do something _different_. And besides, the flyers all said that beginners are welcome, and I swear the way that you play field hockey looks like dancing. ” 

“If you say so,” Harry says skeptically, shrugging. The motion causes her shoulders to brush against her hair, which she realizes that she had forgotten to put it up. She sighs and begins the laborious process of collecting all of her messy hair into a ponytail. 

Before Harry can say anything else to Ron, Harry notices that someone is striding over towards them.

She’s about Ron’s height– a bit taller than Harry– and has silky blonde hair, braided flat against her head, her silver eyes glinting. She’s wearing workout gear that looks expensive and seems perfectly tailored to fit her. 

Harry thinks she’s seen this girl around, though Harry can’t quite put a name to the face, nor remember anything specific about her. 

The girl comes to a halt right in front of Harry and Ron, and says, “My name is Draco. Draco Malfoy.” 

Harry’s lips quirk up at the sound of the name, and she hears Ron snort beside her. Harry decides that she must not have met Malfoy before, because she would have remembered a name that was so ridiculous. 

“Think my name is funny, do you?” Malfoy asks. Then she runs her eyes over Ron, and says, “I don’t need to ask what _yours_ is. With hair that red and gear that cheap, you must be a Weasley.” 

Harry frowns at that and angles her body slightly away from Malfoy and towards Ron. In the few short months since they’d met, Ron has become one of her best friends, and Harry can’t help but feel irritated with this girl who seems to have walked over just to insult her friend.

Ron splutters incoherently and Harry glances between Ron and Malfoy, trying to decide what to do. 

Malfoy rolls her eyes dramatically, then makes eye contact with Harry again. Harry feels one of her eyebrows raise slightly without even thinking about it, and she decides to wait for whatever Malfoy is going to say next. Harry can always roast her ass after whatever she says next, after all. 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that some groups are _better_ than others at this school. I can introduce you to my friends, and you’ll see,” Malfoy says, sticking her hand out for Harry to shake. 

Harry lowers her brow and rolls her eyes. Harry already _has_ a best friend and she certainly doesn’t need a new one that trash talks her actual best friend. Harry shoves her hands into her pockets. “I think I can make my own friends. Thanks anyways.” 

Whatever Malfoy was going to say in response is cut off by the dance team coach calling them to order, so Malfoy scoffs and walks off with a final glare at Harry and Ron. 

Harry hopes that she never has to see Malfoy again.

* * *

**_January, 2015_ **

“You have to be the one to get the solo, Harry,” Ron says. “You worked so hard and your audition was _amazing_.” 

Harry nods absently. In the two years since she and Ron made the dance team, dance has quickly taken over her life– despite the constant annoyance of Malfoy’s presence. Harry, Ron, Malfoy, and Malfoy’s friend, Greengrass had been the only freshmen to make the team. This had led to a fierce competition: Harry and Ron versus Malfoy and Greengrass.

Since then, Ron and Harry have been joined by Ron’s sister, Ginny. Unfortunately, Malfoy’s side has also grown, as she and Daphne were joined by both Daphne’s sister, Astoria, and another girl named Parkinson. 

Honestly, the thing that annoyed Harry the most about Astoria joining was that her presence forced Harry to refer to both sisters by first name, which didn’t really fit the enemy vibe they were going for. 

The in-team competition between them had only increased in intensity with each passing month– even when dance was out of season– to the point where Harry had chosen to go to dance camp instead of playing field hockey during the fall, just to get an edge on Malfoy. 

“Yeah, McGonagall would have to be blind not to see that Harry obviously deserves the solo,” Ginny says.

Harry jumps when McGonagall, who has appeared out of nowhere, says, “I’d have to be blind not to see what, Ms Weasley?” 

_Fuck,_ Harry hadn’t even noticed that McGonagall was in the room. McGonagall’s presence causes Harry’s nerves to act up again. She nervously twirls her hair around her fingers.

“Nothing, nothing,” Ginny says hurriedly. 

McGonagall scrutinizes Ginny for a long moment, then sweeps her gaze over the rest of the team.

Harry bounces forward nervously onto the balls of her feet, then settles back down onto her heels. 

Ron reaches over and squeezes Harry’s forearm reassuringly. Harry glances over at her best friend with gratitude in her eyes. 

“I’ve made a decision for the solo,” McGonagall says, pausing for dramatic effect. 

Harry’s heartbeat picks up and she starts bouncing again. The solo was up between Harry and Malfoy, and Harry thinks that she would have to die if she lost the solo to Malfoy. Especially since this is the first time they’ve ever truly competed against each other; being on the same team doesn’t give them much opportunity for true competition. 

“Well?” Ron interjects.

Harry thinks that as much as she wants to be the one to get the solo, Ron might actually want her to get it more. 

“I was getting there, Ms Weasley,” McGonagall says primly. “I’ve decided that the solo will go to Ms Potter. I’m sorry Ms Malfoy, but your technique just didn’t bring the _right_ emotion to the performance. I’m sure there will be a solo better suited to your talents soon.” 

Harry whoops with excitement, then gasps as Ron hugs her, driving all the air out of her lungs. Ginny slaps her on the back. 

“Can’t– breathe–,” Harry says. 

Ron releases the hug and says, “Right, sorry. But you did it!” 

Harry grins. “I did!” 

She finally remembers that she had had competition for the part and glances around curiously to see what Malfoy is doing. It takes her mere seconds to determine that Malfoy is no longer in the auditorium. 

“Did anyone see where Malfoy went?” Harry asks the group at large. 

“Why, did you want to gloat?” Daphne asks scathingly.

Parkinson has her hand around Daphne’s arm in a vice grip, which Harry eyes with curiosity before deciding that it’s none of her business.

Harry frowns and shakes her head, then says, “No, that’s more Malfoy’s style. I was just wondering where she’d gone.” 

“Whatever,” Daphne says, rolling her eyes. “If you must know, she went to the bathroom.” 

Harry frowns and glances over at the door to the bathroom just in time to see it slam shut. Harry knows then that Malfoy must be upset. Harry wonders for a moment why none of Malfoy’s friends have gone after her, then sees that Daphne is caught in an argument with Parkinson, Daphne’s arm still held in Parkinson’s hand.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Harry says to Ron and Ginny. 

Ron narrow her eyes and says, “Are you sure she’s worth it.”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know. And if nothing else, I do have to go, so: two birds, one stone.”

“Good luck, I guess,” Ginny says. 

Harry throws another look at Parkinson and Daphne, then says quietly, “If you can, you should figure out what they’re arguing about, it seems intense.” 

Ron glances over as well and says, “That? Parkinson’s into Malfoy, that’s probably all it is.” 

Harry’s eyes widen and she nods. “Nevermind, then.” A distant part of her notes that Malfoy is way out of Parkinson’s league, even accounting for how annoying they both are. 

Shaking off this irrelevant train of thought, Harry walks off towards the bathroom. The walk across the gym seems to take longer than normal as she tries to think of what she’ll find when she gets there– and what she’ll do with what she does find. 

When Harry makes it to the bathroom she opens the door, and the first thing she hears is the sound of the sink running. 

Harry steps around the corner and sees Malfoy standing at the sink, her hands held under the stream of water. 

“Well? Did you come here to gloat?” Malfoy asks snidely. 

Harry shakes her head and steps further into the bathroom. “I–”

“Whatever,” Malfoy says, interrupting her. “We all know that McGonagall is friends with your parents and that’s why you got the part.” 

Before Harry manages to get over her shock, Malfoy has turned off the water and brushed past her towards the bathroom door. 

Harry whirls around to stare at Malfoy’s back as she pulls the door open. Harry wants to protest, to say that she worked hard for her audition, that she’s earned it, but before she can, Malfoy has gone, the door slamming shut behind her once again. 

As if in a dream, Harry walks over to the toilet stall. 

By the time she walks out of the bathroom, Harry has managed to shake off her stupor, replacing it with a determination to dance her heart off and prove, once and for all, that she’s earned her solo.

* * *

**_February, 2015_ **

It is the day of the dance competition, the day where Harry will perform her very first solo. She’s been practicing as much as she can– to the point where her dad had said that he’d heard her humming the song in her sleep. 

Harry is now running through her routine backstage for Ron and Ginny. The way her body mindlessly flows from one move to the other makes it clear that all the practice was worth it. 

As she finishes, her friends burst into applause. She grins.

“How was that?” Harry asks, after she catches her breath. 

“Absolutely amazing,” Ron says. 

Ginny nods in agreement and says, “Yeah, you definitely deserve that solo.” 

Harry smiles again, shakes her head, and says, “Thank you, but I mean, is there anything I need to fix?” 

“I’ve got something,” Malfoy says, “I don’t think you’re bringing the right– _emotion_ to the performance.” 

Harry throws a look at where Malfoy has seemingly appeared from nowhere, then turns her back on the girl. “I feel like there has to be something,” Harry says, just to Ron and Ginny. 

Ron glances over at Malfoy, then fixes her eyes on Harry and says, “I think you’re losing the beat a little bit at the middle part, but you pick it up again so quickly that it should be okay.” 

Harry nods. She has been trying really hard to fix that, but it’s hard when all her extra practice at home is with her parents. As hard as they try, they’re not dancers, and therefore can’t really tell her when she’s messing up, especially when it’s something as fleeting as the timing during one part of the song. “Do you–” 

Malfoy interjects, “Only you, Potter, would be able to land a solo, and then not manage to keep the beat. Oh wait, maybe it’s because you didn’t deserve the solo in the first place… We’re doomed.” 

“Fuck off, Malfoy,” Ginny says, getting to her feet. 

Harry throws an annoyed look at Malfoy, then says to Ginny, “Just ignore her, she’s just jealous I got the solo and she didn’t.” 

It’s times like this that the close quarters of their warmup space gets to Harry. Though, with how persistent Malfoy has been about harassing her, she can only imagine that even if they did have more space, Malfoy would probably still find a way to hang around and be a nuisance.

“Obviously,” Ginny says, “but that doesn’t mean her bleating isn’t fucking annoying.” 

“Five minute warning!” McGonagall calls. 

“Fuck,” Harry mutters to herself. She’d been hoping to manage another run through before they went onstage.

“It’s a shame ‘break a leg’ is an expression for luck, because I really do hope you break a leg,” Malfoy says. 

Harry can tell that Malfoy thinks this was supposed to be clever, but really Malfoy just sounds so _stupid_. “You think you’re so _clever,_ but we all know better,” Harry says with a glare. 

Harry knows its petty of her to care at all what Malfoy says, but all the snipes that Malfoy has been aiming at her over the past several weeks have been increasingly aggravating, and Harry is nearing her breaking point. 

Malfoy smirks and says, “I suppose lesser minds must have trouble understanding the things that greater minds already know.”

Forget nearing her breaking point, Harry has just reached it. She snarls and launches herself at Malfoy. She’s had _enough_ and she _will_ teach Malfoy not to mess with her. 

Before Harry can manage anything more than an angry sound and a lunge in Malfoy’s direction, Ginny and Ron each grab one of Harry’s hands and tow her away. They end up where everyone is grouping up to make their way to the stage. 

“C’mon Harry, you gotta get your head in the dance, we probably only have a minute or two left before we’re on– before it’s time for your solo,” Ron says. 

Harry mutters incoherently for a moment, running her hand through her hair, then says, “Fine, fine you’re right. I need to focus, but god, I just wanna teach her a lesson.” 

“And we’ll help you,” Ginny says. “Just, you gotta wait till after the dance.” 

Harry nods. She sucks in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. It’s time for her to focus on one thing, and one thing only: her solo. 

By the time Harry has settled and refocused herself, McGonagall is back. 

“Is everyone ready?” McGonagall asks. 

Harry nervously nods her head along with the rest of the troupe. 

The walk to the stage entrance takes no time at all, and before Harry knows it they’re all lined up, ready to step on stage. Harry is at the back of the line because her solo calls for a late entrance. She nervously resumes bouncing onto the balls of her feet before settling back down onto her heels. 

The rest of the troupe heads on stage without Harry. She and McGonagall are the only two people left.

McGonagall turns to her and says, “You’ve got this, Potter. I chose you for a reason, and you’re going to do us all proud.” Then she turns and hurries off to sit in the audience with the rest of the troupe leaders. 

McGonagall’s vote of confidence only serves to strain Harry’s nerves further, despite the intention. She stares blankly at McGonagall’s retreating back. 

Then the song begins, and Harry has to hurry to her start position. From here she is able to watch her troupe-mates performing, and she almost starts to lose herself in the rhythm of watching her friends. 

But then her nervousness about her impending solo returns, pulling her out of her enjoyment. She rolls her shoulders, takes a deep breath, and shakes out her arms. Then she makes the mistake of looking out into the audience, spotting the judges. Her stomach swoops nervously before she’s able to yank her eyes away.

Then she hears the musical cue that means there are mere seconds left until it’s time for her to go on stage. Harry gets into her starting position and takes one last deep breath. 

The music comes to a sudden halt, cueing Harry to release her breath and run to her starting point on stage. She slides between Colin and Daphne, as she’s supposed to. The troupe is arrayed in a semicircle, and Harry comes to a halt with her back to the audience– and the judges– so that she’s facing the midpoint of the semicircle– as though she’s a conductor of an orchestra. 

Unfortunately, it’s Malfoy who holds the point of the semicircle. Malfoy has just enough time to mouth something that Harry is sure is insulting before the music crescendos again and Harry is launching into motion. 

As Harry shoves down her annoyance with Malfoy, she snaps her arms out, twirling around to face the audience, her head coming up, bold. 

Harry stalks to the front of the stage and drops into a crouch. She only stays down for the briefest of moments before she leaps to her feet again, spinning off to the side. She rushes at the semicircle of trope members, and the people closest to her lean onto their toes, reaching their arms up above their heads. 

Harry sways back in response and backpedals away from the circle. She loops around and then approaches from the back of the circle. As she nears her troupe members she makes eye contact with Malfoy, who takes the opportunity to wink– mocking– at her. 

Harry ignores it as best she can as she responds as she ought to to the semicircle rebuffing her: by recoiling once again. 

Then she circles around and repeats the approach and rebuff for a final time, ending at the opposite side of the circle from where she had begun. 

Harry moves to the front of the stage and flows into the most important part of her solo. It’s a flurry of motion meant to represent the uncertainty and rejection of the part she had just finished. And despite the emotions she’s portraying, her chest swells with pride as she lands each move perfectly.

The finale of this part is a forward somersault that ends with Harry on her knees before the crowd, her arms raised to the sky. The music mellows out for a moment to allow her to catch her breath, and in the interlude, the crowd bursts into applause. 

Harry has to do her best to keep her mind on the performance, because the dance isn’t quite over yet, but it’s hard to when there is something about the applause that hits differently, deeper, now when Harry knows it is for _her_. 

But she can’t dwell on it yet, because the music is swelling once again. Harry gets to her feet and lowers her arms slowly as she turns to face the semicircle again. She takes a few hesitant steps towards the circle, then comes to a halt.

She is still holding the pride of successfully completing the most difficult part of her solo close to her chest as she moves into the finale of the performance. 

Harry whirls back around to face the audience, then walks backwards towards the circle. She is grateful that Ron and Ginny are part of the troupe because this next part would be near impossible without people she trusts here. 

When Harry feels the presence of bodies behind her and knows that the rest of the troupe has closed their ranks like they are supposed to, Harry comes to a halt. 

She spreads her arms and falls backwards. Harry sighs in relief when she feels the press of hands against her back, catching her. 

From there it’s smooth sailing to the end of the number, and the next thing Harry knows, she’s taking her final bows with the rest of the group and running offstage. 

As soon as they are clear of the stage, Ron and Ginny stop and clap Harry on the back. 

“That was amazing!” Ginny says. 

Ron nods and says, “You nailed it!” 

They resume walking, then. They’re heading towards a hallway near the auditorium where they can meet with their parents while they wait for the rest of the troupes to perform, and for the final scores all around. 

“Thanks guys,” Harry says. “I can’t believe–” 

“ _I_ can’t believe that you fucked it up so badly,” Malfoy says, interrupting Harry. “I mean c’mon, you had how long to practice that? And you _still_ nearly lost the timing.” 

Harry looks around and is disappointed to see that they’ve arrived at the hallway and that there’s a crowd of parents gathering. In other words, there’s witnesses. 

“Lay off, Malfoy,” Ron says. 

“I’m just saying,” Malfoy continues, “if we lose this thing, it’s on Potter.” 

“I think that to find the person responsible for our potential loss, Malfoy, you ought to look in the mirror,” Harry says.

With that, she grabs Ron’s and Ginny’s hands, turns, and walks off into the small crowd of waiting parents, cutting off any chance Malfoy might have had to respond. A part of Harry is trying to tell her that this is a coward’s move, but Harry thinks that it’s better to end the confrontation now, before it escalates to violence– again. 

“I can’t believe she said that? I mean I can, it is Malfoy, but god, your part was incredible, Harry,” Ginny says. 

“Yeah,” Ron says, “if we lose it’d be because of her trying to fuck you over the whole time.” 

  
As Harry finally spots her own parents, she ruminates on how _sick_ she is of Malfoy trying to ruin things. “Only two more years,” Harry mutters. “Then we’ll graduate and I’ll never have to see her again.”


	2. Dos a Dos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just fyi I am also cross-posting this to fanfiction.net :)

**_December, 2015_ **

Harry pulls out her phone during one of their rehearsal breaks and sees that she has an email notification. She goes ahead and clicks on it, though she’s sure it’s just going to be another spam email that she’ll have to delete.

But then she sees that it’s from Hogwarts University, and her heart drops. This must be her admission decision. She opens the email with hands that she has to force not to shake. 

And then nearly drops her phone in her excitement. 

“I got in!” She exclaims. 

“You what?” Ginny asks absently, clearly still absorbed in her own phone. 

“I got into Hogwarts University! I just got the email, I’m in!” Harry says. 

Ginny looks up from her phone and says, “Oh my god, we need to celebrate! Fuck, where did Ron go–” 

Whatever she was going to add is cut off by a loud screech from one of the other groups of dancers. 

“Was that–” Harry starts to say.

“Parkinson?” Ginny finishes. 

“Yeah, I think it was.” There, Harry finally spots Parkinson standing over by Malfoy and looking horrified. 

“I’d say that I wonder what’s wrong with her,” Ginny says, “but honestly she probably just found out something stupid, and I’m way more focused on celebrating you.” 

Harry smiles at Ginny. Trying to put together a response. Before she can manage it though, her thoughts are scattered by Parkinson practically shouting, “You  _ cannot _ go to Hogwarts University, Draco! I’ll never get to see you again!” 

“Oh no,” Harry mouths. This cannot be happening. She’s picked up on the implications of Malfoy getting into Hogwarts immediately– only the early admission decisions are out, now. And Hogwarts has binding early decision applications. That means that both Harry and  _ Malfoy _ are committed to go to Hogwarts. Together. 

Harry looks over at Ginny with panic in her eyes. “Please tell me I heard that wrong,” she asks quietly, trying to deny it. 

Ginny just shakes her head slowly. 

“Pansy, I got in early decision, so I  _ have _ to go now,” Malfoy says, sounding annoyed.

Oh no. This is not happening. 

“This is  _ not _ happening,” Harry says, too loudly, disbelievingly. Then she groans when she sees Malfoy turn slowly to face her. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ .

“Did you have something to say, Potter?” Malfoy says. “Or are you just jealous that I’ll be going to Hogwarts and you  _ won’t? _ ” 

Immediately, Harry takes great pleasure in saying, “Actually, I also just got into Hogwarts.” 

“You didn’t.” Malfoy says flatly. 

This makes Harry smile. “I did,” she confirms. It’s a bit of a consolation that Malfoy is also going to be miserable because of this disaster. 

“Why the hell did you apply to Hogwarts, anyways?” Malfoy says. “I’ve been talking about how I’m going there for months now.” She glances over at Parkinson, then says, “Though I guess even my friends didn’t manage to pick up on that…” 

Harry rolls her eyes. A moment of silence passes; Malfoy is still standing in front of Harry with her arms crossed. Harry says dryly, “Did you want something? Because we’re gonna be seeing an awful lot of each other for the next four years, you know.” 

At this, Malfoy huffs angrily, turns on her heel, then stalks off. Parkinson follows closely after her, saying something about how Malfoy shouldn’t go to Hogwarts. 

Harry wholeheartedly agrees with Parkinson, for once. 

“Well, that does put a damper on the celebrations,” Ginny says brightly. She looks around the room and says, “And where on Earth did Ron go?” 

Harry runs her hand through her ponytail as she surveys the room. “That is a good question. And it really does.” After a pause, she adds, “Fuck Malfoy.” 

Ginny sits back down on the ground. “So, I’m assuming you really didn’t know Malfoy was applying to Hogwarts?” 

After one last look around the room for Ron, Harry joins Ginny on the ground. “Yeah, I had no idea. I probably wouldn’t have applied if I’d known– or at least, I wouldn’t have done a binding application.” Harry groans. “God, four more years of Malfoy…” 

“It could be worse,” Ginny says bracingly. 

Harry blinks. After a moment of considering this and trying to see what could possibly be worse than four more years of seeing Malfoy, Harry says, “How.” 

“I hadn’t thought that far,” Ginny says with a shrug. “And besides, you’ll have four whole years to figure it out!”

* * *

_**July, 2016** _

“Hey mom,” Harry says, swinging into the kitchen. 

“Hey Harry,” Mom mimics. 

Harry rolls her eyes at her mom’s back. Then she walks the rest of the way into the kitchen and plops down into a chair at the table. “Guess what,” she says. 

“What?” 

“I got my dorm assignment!”

Mom sets down the dishes she’d been washing and dries her hands off. She turns to face Harry and says, “Alright, you’ve got my  _ full  _ attention now. Tell me all about it, did you get Gryffindor?” 

On her way down to the kitchen, Harry had thought about saying she’d gotten assigned to Slytherin– the worst dorm on campus, according to her dad and godfather, at least– but she’d decided to at least tell her mom straight out. Accordingly, she says, “I’m in Gryffindor! I’m on the second floor and my roommate’s name is Lavender.” 

“Sirius is going to be so relieved,” Mom says, with a bit of a smirk. 

“Are the other dorms really that bad?” Harry asks. She’s glad that her dad is working late today, because as much fun as it would be to poke fun at his still-ridiculously strong vendetta against a freshman dorm at his alma mater, it’ll be a lot simpler to just get a straight answer from her mom. 

Mom leans back against the counter. “I mean, really, they all have advantages and disadvantages. Like, uh, let me see. If it’s the same as when I went there, one of them has air conditioning, one of them is right next to the dining hall, one of them has bigger rooms, and so on.

“And during orientation, your orientation aides will encourage some rivalry between the different dorms– to encourage bonding with your own hallmates.”

“So,” Harry says, “did your orientation aide do too good of a job, then?”

Mom barks out a laugh that makes Harry think her mom has been spending too much time with Sirius. “They certainly did,” Mom says. “Twenty years later, and my husband and his best friend are still keeping the rivalry alive.” 

Harry nods her head solemnly. “Oh, I can tell.” She pauses, then adds thoughtfully, “What do you think, should I tell Dad that I was put in Slytherin? I mean it’s entirely possible, given that freshmen housing is randomly assigned…” 

“God yes, please do. He could use the shock,” Mom says with a laugh. ”So tell me, does this mean you know where all your friends are living, too?” 

“Yeah! Ron’s also in Gryffindor– you remember, she applied regular decision and got in– with some girl named Hermione. Apparently, Hermione texted Ron mere seconds after they got the assignment or something like that, Ron might have been exaggerating a bit. Anyways, Ron’s worried about what rooming with her is gonna be like. And I'm excited to see the fireworks.”

“What about your other little friend?” Mom says. 

Another friend going to Hogwarts… Harry draws a blank when she tries to think of someone. “Uh, who?”

“You know, Draco, she’s going to Hogwarts too. You’ve certainly talked about it enough.” 

“She’s not a  _ friend _ though!” Harry protests. 

Mom waves her hand through the air as if waving Harry’s protest away. “Details, details. What dorm is she in?” 

Harry huffs. “What makes you think I know what dorm she’s in?” 

Mom just raises an eyebrow and stares at Harry expectantly. Harry does her best to match the stare, but is the first to break when she says, “Fine, fine, she’s in Slytherin.” 

Harry didn’t even want to know, but Harry and Malfoy are both in the dance team group chat, despite graduating, and they’d all been announcing their news there. 

A grin breaks out across Mom’s face. “James is going to get an absolute  _ kick _ out of this!” she says.

Groaning, Harry plants her face on the kitchen table. 

“Oh, oh, I’ve got it! Tell James you’re rooming with Draco in Slytherin! He’ll have a coronary– and then try to go pick a fistfight with Lucius!” 

With her face still planted in the table, Harry says, “So you want to murder Dad?” 

Harry hears her mom hum thoughtfully for a moment. “I suppose I do! And what a way for him to go,” Mom says wistfully.

“Anyways,” Harry says bluntly, “I move in on August 19th, so be ready for that. I’m going to go talk to Ron or something, see you.” Then she rushes out of the kitchen before her mom can say anything else. 

Harry rushes up the stairs to her room and into the safety of her room. She flops dramatically onto her bed and pulls out her phone to text Ron about how crazy her mom is. She pulls up their chat only to see that Ron has already texted her about how crazy her own mom is. 

After responding to Ron, Harry flings her arm out and sighs. Only one more month till she’s out of here.

* * *

**_August 19th, 2016_ **

“Why did you have to have a room on the second floor?” Dad says with a grunt. 

“Didn’t– choose–” Harry gasps out. Her dad knows damn well that freshmen don’t get to choose their rooms. 

Currently, Harry and her dad are lugging Harry’s mini fridge up the stairs to her dorm room, and the narrow staircase is  _ not _ easy to navigate. On top of that, Harry has somehow ended up as the second one up the stairs, meaning she is bearing most of the fridge’s weight. 

Finally, they reach the landing for the second floor and Harry gratefully releases her end of the fridge. After a moment to catch her breath, she says, “Why the hell did you go first? That thing was  _ heavy _ !” 

Dad grins. “Age before beauty, my dear, and you’re the one who’s an athlete!” 

Harry groans, then gently bangs her head onto the top of the minifridge. 

“Oh– we gotta move, there’s someone coming up the stairs,” Dad says. 

Harry reaches her arms down to lift the fridge, but then her dad nudges her out of the way. 

“I’ve got it from here,” he says. Then he lifts the minifridge– all on his own– and carries it down the hall. 

Harry spares a moment to scoff in disbelief before she hurries after him, then past him, so that she’ll be able to open the door for him. They’ve already made several trips back and forth from the car, unloading Harry’s things and carrying them all the way up the stairs.

Harry’s mom had gone off to drop in on one of her old favorite professors, so it’s just Harry and her dad unloading on their own. Lavender still has yet to show up. 

That is, until now. Because as Harry opens the door to her dorm so her dad can get into the room, she sees that there’s someone sitting on the previously-unclaimed bed. Mid-length, spiraled hair frames a dark brown, heart-shaped face. It only takes Harry seconds to confirm that this is her roommate, Lavender, a confirmation Harry is able to make thanks to her preparatory Facebook stalking.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” Harry says, still holding the door open for her dad. “And this is my dad.” 

“I’m James,” Dad says, after he sets the fridge down. 

At Harry’s greeting, Lavender looks up from where she had been browsing her phone. 

“And I’m Lavender!” she says. “My parents dropped me off, like, across campus because we couldn’t find the dorm, and, you know, the traffic is so bad that they figured I’d make it here faster on foot than they would in the car. And I did!” 

“Are they still lost?” Dad asks. “Because I can give them directions if they need them.” He puffs out his chest, and Harry knows he’s about to either do or say something embarrassing, so she elbows him in the side. 

“No, that’s alright,” Lavender says. “They got directions from someone else! They’re on their way now. Thank you, though!” 

“We still have more things to bring in. Let’s go get them, Dad,” Harry says firmly, hoping he’ll take the hint and get the hell out of here with her. The potential for her dad to embarrass Harry seems to have passed, but it’s best not to give him any opportunities. 

Her dad gives her a knowing look. Harry throws a pleading one right back at him. The last thing she wants is to be embarrassed by her dad in front of the person she has to live with for the next year. Thankfully, her dad just winks at her then saunters out of the room.

Harry resists the urge to facepalm as she follows him out of the room. 

Several trips later, all of Harry’s belongings have been transferred to her room. During their final trip inside, they’re stopped by someone in a highlighter-yellow t-shirt. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts! How’s moving in going!?” says the newcomer, too enthusiastically. 

Harry blinks for a moment, then says, “Uh, it’s going well. This is our last load.”

“So, what’s your name?” Dad asks. 

“I’m Cedric and I’m the Orientation Aide for Gryffindor!” Cedric says, still intensely enthusiastic, and emphasizing the words “orientation aide” in such a way that Harry can tell that he means for them to be capitalized. 

“Nice to meet you Cedric,” says Dad. “I’m James, and I’d shake your hand, but.” He jiggles the box he is holding. 

Harry mutters, “God,” under her breath. Her dad is just– such a  _ dad _ . 

“Well, James, if you’re almost done moving– wait, sorry, what’s your name?” Cedric asks Harry. 

“It’s Harry.” 

“It’s awesome to meet you, Harry! So, if you’re almost done moving Harry in, James, I’m going to have to ask you to start moving on out! You’ll get a chance to say your final goodbyes after the Headmaster’s welcome this evening, and until then, there’s lots of activities planned for to keep the parents busy while we work on getting your kids’ orientation going!” 

Harry stands in silence for a moment, a little awed at how fast he’d gotten all that out. 

Then Cedric makes little shooing motions with his hands. “Go on, get her all unpacked!” he says. “It’s almost time to go! Go! Go!” 

Harry quickly turns and resumes her hike up the stairs. She thinks back to the schedule she received when she checked in, and realizes that this is one of the people she’s going to be spending an awful lot of time with over the next couple of days.

She reaches the relative safety of her dorm room and is relieved to see that her dad has followed her in rather than hang back to chat with Cedric. It had definitely been a risk, because Cedric seems like the kind of guy her dad would vibe with. 

“Boisterous guy, isn’t he?” Dad asks. 

Lavender looks up from where she’s carefully placing her clothes into her dresser. Harry assumes that Lavender's family must have shown up at some point and unloaded all of her things. It must have been while Harry and her dad had been out, because although Harry hadn't seen any of Lavender's family members, all of Lavender’s things now seem to be here.

“I take it you met Cedric,” Lavender says. 

Harry nods. “Oh, we definitely met Cedric.” 

“He was not that bad,” Dad says. “Orientation aides, back in my day, were ten times as bad! My father thought one of my aides was going to explode because she was vibrating so fast.” 

“Sure,” Harry says, her tone clearly stating that she knows her dad is exaggerating. 

“It’s true!” he says, with a wide grin spread across his face.

This doesn’t deserve a response, so Harry stays silent as she’s rearranging the boxes on her bed so everything will fit. Her dad has already set his load down and is still standing in the doorway once she finishes this task, so she says, “Don’t you have somewhere to be…” 

Dad doesn’t look at her. Instead, he’s looking anywhere but at her. 

“C’mon, getting to see the parent side of Hogwarts orientation was all you could talk about for  _ weeks _ ,” Harry says. 

Her dad clears his throat. “Yes, well, it’s different now that it’s here.” 

Harry rolls her eyes. “Do I need to call mom? You know she’s with Flitwick now, probably deep in that nerdy shit.” 

Dad jumps a little at this threat, making Harry grin with satisfaction. He says, “No, no, there’s no need, I’ll go. But first!” He opens his arms wide. 

Harry gets to her feet and steps into the hug. Her dad’s arms crush around her tighter than normal, and it finally sinks in how hard this must be for him. 

She’s an only child; for years and years, she’s been her parents’ pride and joy. But now they’re going to be ‘empty nesters’. And Harry is going to be on her own. So Harry wraps her arms around her dad and pretends not to notice the tears she feels dropping onto her head. And if he’s pretending not to notice the tears soaking into his shirt, well, what about it. 

After a long moment, they break apart. Harry discretely dashes her tears away. She clears her throat at the same time that her dad does, and this drags an identical chuckle out of both of them. 

“Well,” Harry says, before they can dissolve into hysterical laughter. 

“I guess I should go,” Dad says. 

Harry nods. “We’ll be seeing each other this afternoon anyways.” 

“Right.” 

They stand and stare at each other for a moment before Dad finally turns and leaves. Harry stays, staring at where he’d disappeared down the hallway. Eventually, she returns to unpacking her belongings. 

“That was sweet,” Lavender says. 

Right. Harry has a roommate. A roommate who had just witnessed the entire exchange between Harry and her dad. Harry realizes, with a small amount of horror, that she might be in for a difficult transition from being an only child, one with privacy whenever she wanted it, to sharing her living space 24/7. 

“Thanks,” Harry says awkwardly. To change the subject and distract Lavender, Harry says, “So, do you know anyone going here?” She grabs a box of clothes and starts to hang them up in her closet so she has something to do with her hands. 

“Yeah! My best friend Parvati and her twin Padma are both here! Parvati’s actually down on the first floor,” she says. 

Harry nods. 

“So, do you know anyone?” Lavender asks. 

Harry smiles, though she knows Lavender won’t see it, as both Harry’s face and her entire upper half are currently lodged inside her closet. “Yeah, my best friend Ron is here on the third floor,” she says. “Her roommate’s name is Hermione, and I’ve heard so much about her that I swear I know her too.” 

She could mention Malfoy, but then again, Malfoy doesn’t deserve the mention, asshole that she is.

Lavender laughs . “I know what you mean! Padma’s roommate is a  _ horse girl _ . Like, full-on, insanely-stereotypical horse girl. It’s all her roommate talks about, and so her roommate being a horse girl is all Padma can talk about. I think they’re going to get along great.” 

“So, when you say ‘horse girl’?” Harry asks. 

“I mean she’s been riding horses since she was, like, three. Here, let me show you her side of the room. Padma sent a picture in our group chat hours ago. Apparently she got here like, at the crack of dawn or something.” 

Harry pulls her head out of her closet and walks over. Lavender is still sitting on the floor by her dresser and going through her phone. 

“Here!” Lavender says, thrusting her phone screen towards Harry. 

Harry grabs the phone and takes in the sheer number of horse-themed decorations that are crowding precisely one half of the room. “Wow.” 

“Keep scrolling forward,” Lavender says encouragingly. 

Harry glances skeptically at her, then swipes to the next picture. She stares at it for a long moment, trying to make sense of what she sees. “This isn’t real,” Harry says bluntly. 

“Oh, it is,” Lavender says, grinning broadly. 

This picture shows the middle of Padma’s dorm. Right smack dab in the middle of the floor is a large, padded, rocking horse. It’s taken up most of the floor space in the room, and the backdrop of the roommate’s horse decorations only adds to the surreality of the image.

Before Harry can further express her disbelief, Ron comes storming into their room. 

“I have had  _ enough!” _ Ron says, without preamble. 

Harry hands Lavender’s phone back and turns to face Ron. “You’ve had enough of– what?” she asks. 

“Hermione! It’s only been an hour and she’s already driving me up the fucking wall!” 

“Right, right, what’s she done?” Harry asks. 

Ron sits down on the one clear spot on Harry’s bed. “So, she got there first, right? And she was already like, entirely unpacked by the time I got there, just sitting at her desk reading. And I was like, awesome! She’s busy, I’ll be able to unpack in peace!” 

Harry nods. 

“I was so wrong! I started hanging my t-shirts in my closet, because you know I only have a hoodie or two to hang up and no dress shirts or dresses, so I figured may as well, and she tells me that’s a dumb place to put my shirts! Then I’m hanging up my Chudley Cannons football poster, and she keeps telling me it’s positioned badly!” 

“Uh huh,” Harry says absently. She’s decided to start putting some of her other things in her desk while Ron’s been talking. 

“It’s enough to drive a girl mad! Hermione’s a nightmare, honestly,” Ron says passionately. 

Harry jumps when a new voice says, “I’m a  _ what _ ?” 

Standing in the doorway is a girl– Hermione, Harry thinks– with wild curls floating around her head like a halo. Her hands are planted on her hips, and she’s glaring at Ron angrily. 

Harry quickly glances between the two, then exchanges a worried glance with Lavender. Harry hopes Lavender won’t blame her for this exchange happening in their room.

“Uh–” Ron says, sounding panicked. 

_ As she should be _ , Harry thinks. 

“Well? Did you have something you wanted to say to my face, or were you just going to keep talking about me behind my back?” Hermione demands. 

Ron started to say, “I’m sorry–” 

“Are you? Or are you just sorry you got caught?” Hermione says, cutting her off. 

“I didn’t know you’d hear me,” Ron says petulantly. 

Hermione throws her arms out and says, “Really!  _ Really _ ? Wow, I never could have guessed that! Good thing I had to go to the bathroom, or I’d never have known what you think about me.” 

Ron mumbles something that Harry doesn’t catch. 

“What was that?” Hermione snaps. 

“Look, I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything. It’s just– you can be a bit overbearing,” Ron says. 

Hermione is giving Ron a suspicious look. After a moment, she says, “Whatever, we’ll have plenty of time to talk this out when we’re not trespassing in this room.” 

Ron gulps nervously and glances at Harry. “Right, uh, Hermione, meet my best friend, Harry. Harry, meet my roommate Hermione.” 

Harry gets up from her desk and holds out her hand for Hermione to shake. 

“Oh, that’s where you two are,” someone else says. 

Harry and Hermione drop their handshake and Harry glances over at the door. The person who’d spoken is wearing a highlighter-yellow t-shirt that clearly marks her as an orientation aide.

“I’m gathering everyone for an icebreaker– right, introductions. Hi, I’m Gemma Farley, I’m your other orientation aide. You haven’t seen me yet because I was off directing traffic, but I’m here now!” 

“Nice to meet you,” Harry mumbles, the same time that the others mumble their own greetings. 

“Right, well, it’s time for us to go, so,” Gemma says, turning and gesturing into the hallway. 

Harry sighs and glances at all the things she still has to unpack.

Gemma must see this, because then she says, “Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to unpack later.” 

At this, Ron starts to head out of the room, and the others quickly follow suit. It seems it’s time for a round of icebreakers. Fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading! please don't forget to leave a comment below letting me know what you thought! and heads up: my writing tumblr is [waitingondaisies](https://waitingondaisies.tumblr.com/) and i post previews, sneak peaks, and updates there!


	3. Pas de Bourree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> accidentally posted this yesterday with the wrong publish date, so here i am, posting it again.

**_August 19th, 2016– Later_ **

Harry glances around at the small crowd of freshmen gathered in the open lawn next to their building. These are the people that Harry will be living with for the next year, which is odd to think of, because she’s only ever lived with her parents her entire life.

She’s drawn out of her thoughts as Cedric calls for everyone’s attention. He is just as loud and enthusiastic as he had been earlier, and Harry has to wonder where he finds the energy for it all. 

“If everyone could gather into a circle and sit down, that would be great!” Cedric says, once relative quiet has fallen over the group. 

Lavender has wandered off, probably to go see her friend Parvati, who she had mentioned lives in their building. Then Harry sees that Ron and Hermione are still glaring daggers at each other. Harry sighs and inserts herself between the two, if only to prevent them from killing each other in such a public space. 

Really Harry thinks that Hermione deserves the chance to properly chew Ron out in private. 

There’s a small commotion over at another portion of the circle, and Harry leans around, trying to see what’s going on. It’s easy to see that whatever is happening must have something to do with the guy who is the only freshman still standing. 

Cedric and Gemma are talking so quietly with the guy that Harry can’t hear what’s going on. She can only stare at the three people standing some ways away. Whatever it is must get resolved, because then Gemma turns and faces the group at large.

“We’re going to go to a place called the Terrace to play our icebreaker. It’s got chairs. so we can all sit properly,” Gemma says loudly, projecting so everyone can hear her. 

Harry joins all the rest in minor grumbling as she gets to her feet. 

Cedric leads the way towards the Terrace. Once everyone is moving, Harry glances back behind her and sees that Gemma is bringing up the rear. Harry is somewhere in the middle, still firmly sandwiched between Ron and Hermione. 

“Did either of you hear what’s going on?” Harry asks the two.

They both shrug and shake their heads, but the person walking in front of Harry turns around and says, “Apparently Neville has a pretty bad grass allergy. It makes him break out in hives when he touches grass, so we’re going somewhere else where he can sit down.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Harry says.

Harry refocuses on the walk to the Terrace, determined not to let Ron and Hermione get to her with their tense, awkward silence. They’ve still not resolved Ron’s buffoonery, and so they are both exuding uncomfortable vibes.

Thankfully, it only takes a couple minutes for them to arrive at their destination, and when they do, there’s already a large group of students occupying several of the tables. 

A couple feet away, Cedric is busy with speaking to someone else in a highlighter yellow t-shirt, probably the other students’ orientation aide. Harry glances around. The other students from her hall are starting to fill the empty tables, so Harry grabs one of Ron’s arms and one of Hermione’s and drags them over to an available table.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Hermione demands.

Harry stomach drops anxiously, and she immediately drops Hermione’s arm. “Oh, sorry, I just assumed–” Harry says. “Sorry, I was taking you over to grab a seat with me and Ron. But, uh, you obviously don’t have to sit with us.”

They’ve already arrived at the table, so Harry absently takes a seat at it without breaking eye contact with Hermione.

Hermione flushes as though she’s embarrassed. “Don’t be sorry. I just didn’t realize that you’d want me to sit with you,” she says. “I hardly made the best impression, what with me barging into your room to yell at your friend, after all.”

“We’ll probably be spending a lot of time around each other. Since you’re Ron’s roommate and I’m her best friend. It’s probably best if we put that behind us,” Harry says.

Hermione takes a seat next to Harry. “I’d like that.”

Sometime during this exchange, Ron had sat down on Harry’s other side, leaving them with one seat empty at their table. Harry glances around to see if anyone is looking for a seat, but instead she catches sight of her  _ dad _ walking by.

“Oh no,” Harry mutters.

Harry glances around again, more urgently this time, hoping to see her mom nearby. She quickly discerns that her mom is nowhere in the vicinity. Continuing to scan the area, Harry pulls out her phone so she can tell her dad to  _ go away _ and to do whatever the parents are supposed to do.

But then she sees something straight out of her nightmares: Lucius Malfoy, wearing an official Hogwarts University golf tee and khaki shorts, on a collision course with her dad.

“Ron, do you see what I see,” Harry says urgently, nodding her head in the direction of Malfoy Senior.

Ron’s head swivels around. When Ron jolts back as if struck, Harry knows that Ron’s seen the same thing that she’d seen.

“That’s Lucius Malfoy,” Ron says.

“And it gets worse,” Harry agrees, gesturing towards her dad, who has now spotted Malfoy Senior and altered his course to more directly intercept him.

Hermione frowns and looks urgently between Harry, Ron, Malfoy Senior, and Harry’s dad. “Who’s that?” she asks.

“That is the dad of the worst person I went to high school with on a collision course with my dad,” Harry says.

“Oh,” Hermione says.

Harry finally remembers that she’d pulled out her phone for a reason. 

It’s too late now for a text to her dad to do anything, so she decides to text her mom instead. Harry urgently asks her mom where she is and adds that she is needed at the Terrace– _ now _ . Harry doesn’t really think her mom will respond in time to stop the storm she can see brewing in front of her, but it’s worth the text because it’s better than doing nothing at all.

“You,” Malfoy Senior says, when he and James are finally face to face.

“Me,” Dad agrees brightly. “Fancy seeing you here, Lucius! We weren’t sure if Draco would make the cut for Hogwarts, you know.”

Malfoy Senior’s head rears back, and Harry hears someone scoff.

The scoff sets off Harry’s fight of flight; she looks around frantically for the source of the sound.

“This must be a nightmare,” she says flatly. Because she’s managed to identify the scoffer, and it’s none other than Draco fucking Malfoy, who is sitting amidst the group of people who had already been at the Terrace when Harry and her dormmates had arrived.

Harry decides, after a moment, that the confrontation between her dad and Lucius is the more concerning event, so she forcefully rips her attention away from Malfoy Junior’s angry face.

Her dad still has a shit-eating grin spread across his face. It’s enough to make  _ Harry _ want to slap it off, and she’s not even the one her dad is directing the grin at. That honor goes to Malfoy Senior, and Harry can only imagine how infuriated that stupid grin is making him.

Malfoy Senior has evidently decided not to respond to her dad, because he’s just standing still with a look of intense dislike plastered on his face.

“Your face reminds me!” Dad says enthusiastically. “I have a bone to pick with you!”

“Do you,” Malfoy Senior says flatly.

“It is all  _ your _ fault that my wife made me think that Harry was rooming with Draco in the literal  _ worst _ dorm on this campus!”

Malfoy Senior seems to take a moment to process this, and Harry takes the opportunity to check her phone. She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees that her mom is hurrying over as fast as she can.

“I beg your pardon?” Malfoy Senior says. “ _ Your  _ wife’s behavior is  _ my  _ fault?”

Dad nods firmly, and Harry can tell that he’s really just trying to pick a fight. And based on the way that Malfoy Senior is clutching the head of his cane, he’s also itching to fight too.

Harry glances down at her phone again, hoping to see some indication that Mom is almost here, but there’s no new response. It’s just as likely that Mom is walking too fast to have time to respond. Or at least, that’s what Harry desperately tells herself. All the students sitting on the Terrace are now watching the confrontation with interest. 

With Harry’s luck, this disaster will go viral and she will  _ never _ live it down.

Dad and Malfoy Senior each take a menacing step towards each other, but before Harry can panic, she hears, “Lucius, dear, that’s where you went.”

Harry’s head snaps around to identify the source of the voice, and she sees that it’s none other than Malfoy’s mom. This is an unexpected, though shockingly welcome development. Harry can’t imagine that Mrs Malfoy will let Malfoy Senior get away with fist-fighting Harry’s dad in the middle of campus.

Then Harry is greeted with another welcome sight in the form of her mom approaching from the direction of Flitwick’s office.

“James?” Mom calls, further distracting Harry’s dad from whatever he was going to do– or say– to Malfoy Senior.

“Lily?” Dad says, sounding confused. He doesn’t break eye contact with Malfoy Senior, though. Harry frowns and glances back over at Malfoy Senior and sees that he hasn’t broken eye contact with James either. 

Harry anxiously begins to wonder if her mom and Mrs Malfoy will be enough to stop her dad and Malfoy Senior from doing something monumentally stupid and twice as embarrassing. Something that’s embarrassing for them  _ and _ for Harry.

“What are you doing over here, James?”

“Uh,” Dad says, “well, I wasn't interested in the first parent activity they had on the schedule. Which is just a suggestion, really. So I thought I’d go find you. But then I ran into this schmuck and got distracted.”

Harry cranes around the person seated between her and her parents in time to see Mom narrow her eyes pointedly at Dad. Harry grins, somewhat maliciously, glad that her dad won’t get the chance to embarrass her horribly in front of her new neighbors.

“Right, well. You’ve had your fun, and now we are going to go join the rest of the parents,” Mom says firmly. She reaches out,grabs Dad’s hand, then begins towing him off in another direction. Over her shoulder she says, “It was nice seeing you, Narcissa.”

Harry turns and sees that Mrs Malfoy has Malfoy Senior’s hand in one of her own and is using the other to wave goodbye to Harry’s mom. Mrs Malfoy and Malfoy Senior remain still for several long moments before they begin trailing slowly after Harry’s parents.

Finally, Harry is able to breathe a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

“Hey, Harry, were those your parents?” Cedric asks, after the Malfoys are out of earshot.

Harry groans quietly, then says, “Unfortunately.”

“Wait, I have a Draco,” one of the unknown orientation aides says. “Draco, were those your parents?”

Harry turns so she can see the expression on Malfoy’s face. She looks as though she has just taken a massive bite out of a lemon. “Unfortunately,” she says, echoing Harry.

“So, do you know each other, then?” Cedric asks. He’s smiling as though he thinks this is a good thing.

Harry’s lip curls.

“She went to my high school,” Malfoy says.

“I didn’t know you owned the school,” Harry muses. “The more you know, I guess.”

Malfoy scoffs.

“I see the rivalry isn’t limited to your parents!” the third orientation aide says brightly.

“Alrighty then, let’s focus up,” Gemma says. “We’re going to do a combined ice breaker with both Gryffindor and Slytherin. This is called two truths and a lie, and it’s very simple…”

* * *

**_August 23rd, 2016_ **

Harry looks around and is dismayed to realize that she sees none of her friends that she came to the activity fair with.

She’d just gone off for a second to look at the cheese club, and now she’s totally alone. The activity fair is located on the basketball court floor, and is now absolutely jam-packed with students– a situation that is  _ not _ at  _ all _ conducive to finding her friends.

H arry pulls out her phone and tries to text their group chat, only to discover that she has absolutely no service. She groans and puts her phone back into her pocket.

Deciding that she might as well do what she’d come here to do, Harry resumes looking around at the many available clubs. She can’t quite imagine what kind of people would join ‘The Society of Watching Paint Dry Enthusiasts’, but there’s a table for it, and it’s definitely got members because the table is being manned by several people in matching t-shirts.

The t-shirts, at least, are normal. Just about every table is manned by at least two people in matching t-shirts advertising their club. Harry can tell that some of the shirts are meant to be clever, but most of them are just cheesy. Especially the t-shirts for the cheese club.

After wandering down the rest of the row she’s in, Harry randomly picks another row to check out.

This row ends up consisting primarily of religious clubs, so Harry pulls out her phone and idly swipes through her app pages, more to have something to do with her eyes and hands than out of any real need to find an app. 

Her lack of attention causes her to run directly into another person.

“Fuck, I’m so sorr–“ Harry says, before cutting herself off when she realizes who she’d run into.

“Potter?” Malfoy says, sounding affronted.

“Malfoy,” Harry says in return.

“I can’t believe a clumsy ass like you ever managed to compete on any level with me,” Malfoy says.

“And yet I beat you so very many times,” Harry says. 

“All I seem to recall is McGonagall displaying blatant favoritism towards you. With a fair coach, you’d never have beaten me.” 

“You’re just a sore, narcissistic loser.”

“And you’re a scruffy, talentless asshole,” Malfoy says, taking a step towards Harry.

Harry takes a step toward Malfoy, bringing them nearly nose to nose. “At least my scruffiness is honest… You are your dad are both so slicked up with hair grease, I’m surprised my dad was able to beat yours as soundly as he did. I was honestly worried he’d slide in the oil slick you and your dad leave everywhere.” 

As soon as the words leave Harry’s mouth, she regrets them. The situation had been embarrassing for  _ both  _ of them, and Harry would probably have been better off not bringing it up. It’s too late now though; Malfoy is already speaking again.

“What do you mean your dad beat mine? My father was the clear victor of that interaction.”

“I seem to recall otherwise,” Harry says, cocking her head curiously to the side. “And my glasses were definitely clean that day, so I’m pretty sure I’m right.” Harry knows she’s being ridiculous, but she can’t seem to stop herself. It’s just so fun to mess with Malfoy like this, and it’s not like she has anywhere else to be; she’s already signed up for the dance team emails and the Chemistry Club.

And her goddamned friends are still missing.

Malfoy glares angrily and tosses her hair back. As Harry watches the hair fly back over Malfoy’s shoulder, she absently notes that Malfoy has cut her hair since they’ve graduated. 

“Whatever,” Malfoy says, “I have better things to do with my time than deal with you.” Then she flounces off down the aisle of clubs, away from Harry.

Harry watches her stalk off, then realizes she’d forgotten to say something after Malfoy. Damn.

Harry hates it when Malfoy gets the last word, especially during pissing contests like this one, where neither of them were being particularly witty.

Sighing, Harry returns to wandering the arena floor. She decides to give her friends fifteen more minutes, and if she doesn’t find any of them by then, she’ll give up and head back to their dorms alone.

As Harry meanders around with nothing to do but look at clubs that don’t really interest her, her mind drifts back to her confrontation with Malfoy. She can’t believe she’ll have to deal with four more years of being on the same campus as Malfoy.

How often will Harry going to have to see her? Harry doesn’t think Malfoy does dance for  _ fun, _ so Harry shouldn’t have to worry about seeing her on the dance team. But that still leaves more than enough opportunities for them to run into each other around campus.

How many more times is Harry going to run into Malfoy?

Four more years of opportunities. 

Four more years till Harry is free of Malfoy.

* * *

**_August 30th, 2016_ **

“You almost ready to go, Ron?” Harry asks from the doorway. It’s almost time for them to leave for the dance team auditions, and Harry wants them to get there a bit early if they can.

Objectively, Harry knows that she’s auditioned for things in dance many,  _ many _ times over the past couple of years, but her nerves don’t seem to give a shit about that fact, because she is practically vibrating with anxiety.

The more she cares, the worse she feels. Because back when Harry had first tried out for dance, she hadn’t much cared if she’d made the team or not. But now that she cares, she’s a bundle of anxiety.

“Give me a moment, I need to find my lucky scrunchie,” Ron says.

Harry glances around Ron’s room for it, and as she does, she sees a scrunchie on Ron’s wrist. “Is it there on your wrist?” she asks.

Ron pauses in her search and holds her wrist up to her eyes. “Yes, yes, it is my lucky scrunchie. So, uh, we can go now.”

“Thank god,” Harry says.

Ron grabs her dance bag and they hurry out to the recreation center, which is where the tryouts are being held. There are a lot of people outside enjoying the nice weather; Harry takes a deep breath to try and absorb the calming atmosphere.

“It’s gonna be alright, Harry,” Ron says soothingly.

“Objectively, I know that.” Harry says. “It’s just convincing my damn brain of that that’s the problem.”

Ron nods. “That’s rough, buddy.”

As they get closer to the rec center, there are a handful of other people who are also dressed for dance.

“Look,” Harry says, nudging Ron’s arm. “Those might be our future teammates.”

“Oh shit,” Ron breathes.

Harry’s so distracted by the thought of actually making the team that she trips down a couple of the stairs that lead to the rec center. Someone laughs, but Harry determinedly keeps her head forward.

“Ignore it,” Ron says, grabbing Harry’s arm.

“I know, let’s just go.”

Together, Harry and Ron power walk the rest of the way into the recreation center, and then to the gymnasium that’s been set aside for dance team tryouts. When they walk in, there are several people in matching t-shirts standing at the front of the gym. Closer to Harry and Ron, there are several more people who are wearing workout gear and stretching.

Harry glances at Ron, then nods to an empty spot. They hurry over and set down their things. Then, in unison, they begin their typical stretching routine. Smiling at Ron, Harry says, “It’s just like old times.”

“I mean, it is, but also that makes us sound so  _ old _ ,” Ron says.

Harry shrugs as they smoothly move into the next part of their routine.

Then the gym doors swing open with a loud bang. Harry jumps. She turns to look over her shoulder, and her stomach drops when she sees none other than Draco Malfoy striding confidently through the doors.

Harry turns back around to face Ron, sliding her thumb across her throat. As clearly as possible, Harry mouths, “Kill. Me.”

Ron just shakes her head, eyes wide and fixed on Malfoy.

“Potter,” Malfoy says, from just behind Harry.

Harry had hoped that Malfoy would just pretend not to notice her, but of course Harry has no such luck. “Malfoy,” she returns. Then she adds, “What are you doing here? I always thought you were just on the team to build your resume…”

“Obviously not, you idiot. I clearly wouldn’t be here if I didn’t enjoy it.”

Harry rolls her eyes at the juvenile insult. Really, Harry is trying to hide her annoyance. Not only did she and Malfoy accidentally end up at the same school, but Malfoy is  still plaguing Harry with her presence by attempting to join the dance team.

A part of Harry wants to try and call some kind of truce with Malfoy. They are, after all, both adults now. They ought to be better than this childish rivalry.

But the bigger part of Harry is far too invested in beating Malfoy to be the first to back down. So she very cleverly says, “You’re the one who’s an idiot.”

After saying this, Harry feels the urge to stick her tongue out at Malfoy. Harry thankfully is able to restrain this impulse, because as childish as she and Malfoy are being, sticking her tongue out would be a whole new level of nonsense.

“Draco, over here!” another girl calls, waving her hand frantically. Harry doesn’t recognize her.

“You’d better go, Malfoy. Can’t keep the fan club waiting,” Harry says.

Malfoy had already begun to walk away, but she pauses to throw a nasty look at Harry.

Harry smiles sweetly in response, and Malfoy whips back around.

“Anyways,” Harry says, turning back to Ron. “Where were we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so real talk. this is the first story like this that i've ever written, and it takes a lot of effort for me to get it right. writing is something that i do for fun, purely for my own enjoyment, and currently i'm simply not getting sufficient validation (comments, kudos, bookmarks) to justify digging my heels in and continuing to write this.
> 
> consequently, I've made the decision to switch to writing something else for the next couple of days at least, until I see how the response to this new chapter is. if the response is sufficient enough to motivate my brain into wanting to write this again, then I'll gladly switch back to writing it. otherwise, this could be the end of this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> the more comments i get, the faster i'm motivated to write! so please leave your thoughts below! (i also rly appreciate kudos and bookmarks, but comments hit different :D)


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